By Sandy Macintyre | Posted: February 28, 2005
Many years ago on the road to Chaguaramas through Carenage a terrible accident occurred: one survivor scraped from the wreck so badly damaged that a team of American military surgeons at the naval base hospital decided their only recourse was to engage in some EXPERIMENTAL SURGERY
The operation was partially successful
in that the life was saved
But the patient escaped during his rehabilitation phase
And it was at that point in time
that the tiny twin island state of TRINBAGO,
which among its many distinctions
included both a Mr. Universe,
and two Miss Universe title holders,
an Olympic gold medalist in the one hundred metres,
the highest score by a batsman in test cricket,
the eighth wonder of the world
by virtue of its incredible pitch lake
and for a period of some twenty five years or so
the person who held the post of chief minister of state
was reputed to be
the third most intelligent person on the planet
capable of debating issues of national concern in Latin,
became the first country
on the planet
to produce
A CYBORG
. . . walk forty miles in a day,
barefoot to boot
on hot pitch
burning like a bitch,
to this you may say " NO WAY!"
But MAHAL
could easily cover the distance
from Port- of - Spain
to San Fernando
all the while
shifting gears in style
and wearing a big broad smile,
this distance by the way
on any given day
is sixty five miles
I dare say
In his khaki shorts
his calves rippling muscles of corded steel
MAHAL barefeet
and with no shirt to his name
would cover the island
touring in his invisible mobile
being careful to follow
all the laws relative
to the Highway Ordinances Act
he kept to the side
because his vehicle
was of the slower moving sort
but he always made sure
to make all of the required signals
with unmistakable style
breaking all the while
But when he pulled into
a town or city
panic would ensue
as all drivers there
were seized by the fear
that they might park their cars on the very spot
where MAHAL had left his
for in instances like this
impelled by a wrath that knew no bounds
violators of the sacred space
where he had left
the invisible mechanical side of his being
would be threatened with dismemberment
and scolded with lyrically precise
cadences of obscenities
that flowed like lithe litanies from his lips
for taking such liberties.
Did you enjoy this article? Read more of Sandy Macintyre's work at AHANAIE, World Music Collective.
My mother comes from South Trinidad. So I asked her if she knew about Mahal. She said that everybody knew Mahal. So I asked her if he was crazy to run all that distance, day in day out. She said the thing was that Mahal, his sister and his brother had seen somebody murdered and were called as witnesses in the case. But somebody put obeah on them. So when Mahal came into court before the judge all he could do is throw in a gear and run out the door. His sister could only sit down and run the cloth through the Singer sewing machine, and his brother could only keep picking the cocoa.
Posted by: Joan D'Abreau at March 21, 2005 05:44 PM
Hi all,
Thank you for the comments regarding 'MAHAL'. Bear in mind, that I myself never actually saw Mahal but over the course of my childhood and into my early adulthood the stories told to me about him took on legendary proportions. I have to thank John Stewart for his very vivid description of 'Mahal' for it was based on that description that I developed the graphic image. MAHAL is one of series of poems I am doing about denizens of the street that have added so much colour to our lives.
Posted by: Sandy Macintyre at March 20, 2005 05:56 PM
My mother used to tell me about Mahal. I remain fascinated. Colorful characters like Mahal, his sister the seamstress, and his brother who picked cocoa all the livelong day remind me of all that I love and miss most about home. I suspect it is an entire extended family doing anything we want them to do all day long. Only in Trinidad! You do a fine job immortalizing this legendary figure!
Posted by: KP Lewis at March 13, 2005 09:55 PM
Thanks for fixing the graphic! I wonder whether anyone still remembers the story about why Mahal was compelled to drive his car from North to South and all over Trinidad every day. And whatever happened to his sister who had to sit at a Singer Sewing Machine and continue to sew all day, every day? Crick Crack Monkey.
Posted by: anne-marie at March 8, 2005 02:09 PM
I was so pleased to see the poem on Mahal. I have such fond memories of him. But you need to do something about the graphic that obliterates most of the text.
Posted by: Anne-Marie at March 7, 2005 06:06 PM
Your online news letter was forwarded to me. I read it in great detail. I was indeed theilled by the fact that Black History Month wil be multiplied by 12 as it should be.
Count me in, I want to be informed as to what is happening and maybe in some way participate.
Posted by: Jeff Henry at March 5, 2005 11:05 AM
Hello Yvonne,
Thank you for your wonderful comments. We will look into this concern and try to correct the error.
Hope you are well! Thank you for the *warm* wishes!
Shana
Posted by: CaribbeanTales Staff at March 5, 2005 08:09 AM
Hi, Brilliant once more! But I could not read most of MAHAL, which I thank Sandy for, as only a few days ago, I wondered if his life story would ever be chronicled in any form. The graphic is covering half of the text, I am sure you would not mind reducing or relocating it. Thank you!
Bundle up and think of the warmth down here
Fond regards, Yvonne
Posted by: Yvonne at March 5, 2005 07:49 AM
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